In the Arms of an Angel
by Batman Lamp-Writer
Summary: These fics deserve a good home. First up: Magic. Everyone who'd ever lived in Amity Park in the past sixteen years knew about Danny Fenton. The whole Fenton family was well-known for their…quirks, but the youngest was by far the most odd. From a young age he'd been helping the police find suspects by using his psychic powers to divine where there was evidence. Then the ghosts came.


A/N: Okay, so life is getting in the way of typing up more of _Living with the Chills, Missing Someone You've Never Met, _and _Zeus' Dice._ Mostly 'cause I'm creating a Murder Mystery Party for my board game club. So, in the meantime, you get some scenes from a story that's up for grabs. I've got some notes, but I couldn't get past my writer's block on this.

All one-shots in this "fic" will be available for adoption.

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**Notes for this fic:**

**This particular story involves the rumors of how Danny Phantom was originally supposed to go, mixed with some personal ideas of my own. Danny has no ghost powers, but he's a psychic with some magic. This magic is what caused the ghosts to come to Amity Park, and he has to fight them off with the help of Sam, Tucker, Jazz, and Danielle (yes, both are his sisters).**

**Danny—Psychic, some Magic, Cryokinesis, Power Bestowal**

**Dani—Levitation, Power Sensing**

**Jazz—Telekinesis, Power Augmenting**

**Vlad—Half-ghost, Pyrokinesis, Power Negation**

**Sam—Florakinesis/Ecological Empathy**

**Tucker—Technopathy**

**Valerie—Weapon Creation/Energy Constructs**

**Maddie—Medium**

**Jack—Psychometry**

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There's a hidden potential in everyone, but few realize it. Of those few, they fall into one of three categories.

The first, the most common, is the way of the villain. These people use their potential to hurt others or for personal gain. They make it far, but allowing their potential to consume them is often their downfall. It takes a special kind of twisted to get ahead and still remain unsuspicious.

The second is only slightly behind the first in popularity. This is the way of cowards, of those who decide to straddle the line between the first and third, the bad and the good. More often than not, these are the ones who either never use their potential or who hide it so well, they're never more than invisible to onlookers. While the villains of the world use their powers in flashy or dangerous ways, these are those who simply use their potential only when necessary. As such, they often live longest, but at the price of living with the overwhelming pressure to use their potential.

The third group is by far the most rare, for these are the few who use their potential to help others, some even going so far as to fight off any threats to their friends, relatives, neighbors. These are the ones who live the shortest, because not only are they in danger from those they fight off, but these fights are often in public, where they are unable to hide their gifts from the world. Rather than the praise they deserve for helping their homes survive, these few are shunned, ridiculed, and sometimes, even taken away for their differences.

Yet no one ever seems to realize these "differences" belong to them all.

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There's something instinctual about right and wrong. Some things, even children can recognize as innately incorrect.

He was over all the time, an old friend of Mom and Dad's. When he wasn't here, they'd tell us stories about him and the "good ol' days" back in college. When he was around, my parents wanted us to call him uncle. He was here so often that my sisters fell into that habit.

I couldn't, not after the looks he gave, the small nudges and the stories he'd tell me, only me, when no one else could hear us. I didn't need to be psychic or an adult to realize it was unusual.

Because even at seven, kids can tell when something's wrong.

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You'd think, wouldn't you, that after all I'd been through, what with my weird family and psychic connections with both one of my best friends and my pet owl, that nothing could shock me any more. I mean, that only makes sense, right?

Well, you'd be wrong. So. Very. _Wrong._

I had looked up and asked said best friend Sam to buy a certain spell book for me. After all, one of the spells in it was supposed to keep someone away from you indefinitely, and I could _definitely_ use a repulsing spell.

Well, Sam had easily found the book, delivering it to me just two days after I asked for it. That evening, I had gathered everything necessary to perform the spell, and had set up my attic room to attempt it. I hadn't paid any attention to which spell was supposed to come after it, so of _course_ I didn't realize that the wrong spell followed it.

Instead, I followed all the directions to the letter, had quoted the necessary incantations, and suddenly found myself staring up at a portal that definitely _should not_ have been there.

And as a glowing green monster came out of the portal, I swore to myself I'd always check spellbooks for missing pages from here on out.

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"...Shit."

"Danny, _MOVE!_"

Danny dove to the side as a blast flew straight at him. He rolled to a stop, crouching so he'd be ready to dodge again.

"You just _had_ to try that spell, didn't you?" a violet-eyed girl complained from the side lines.

"Sam, for the _last_ time, _I didn't know a page was missing!_" Danny wove around another blast. "I mean, sheesh! Kill me for trying to keep Vlad away, why don't you?"

"You still should've _checked_ to see that it was the right spell!"

"Two spells mixed together should _not_ create a brand-new spell!"

"Um, guys?" the third member of their trio said meekly.

"_WHAT?_" both yelled before Danny was blasted in the back.

"...The ghost's still here…?"

Danny glowered at him. "Tuck…."

"Y—Yeah?"

"After I kill this ghost, _you're next_."

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Everyone who'd ever lived in Amity Park, Illinois, in the past sixteen years knew about Danny Fenton. The whole Fenton family was well-known for their… quirks, but the youngest was by far the most odd. From a young age, he'd been helping the police find suspects by using his psychic powers to divine where there was evidence. He'd also come to be used as a lie detector more often than an actual polygraph.

But then the ghosts came.

Not many knew why they'd appeared so suddenly one day, but it quickly became a common occurrence for a ghost attack to interrupt school, work, meetings, dates.

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Vlad was an old "family friend." Some friend. Dani knew something was up between Vlad and her twin brother Danny, and she knew it had something to do with that guy Danny had codenamed Plasmius. Every time Vlad came, Plasmius seemed to follow and cause problems. And Danny didn't like to involve his friends and family in these problems.

Even though he should've.

Dani had followed her brother, one time. He said he was going to visit Tucker, but Dani _knew_ that was her brother's way of saying he was headed out to hunt something—or some_one_—down. He had to be after Plasmius, Dani just _knew_ it.

But as he finally slowed to a stop, Danny looked around, causing Dani to do the same from her hiding spot in a tree.

"Come out, Plasmius, I _know_ you're here!"

Dani's eyes widened, she feeling drowned by the sudden wave of pure _power_ she sensed coming from the shadowed figure across the way. She gasped for breath, needing relief from the surge she'd felt.

And she finally realized _why_ Danny kept them from meeting with Plasmius: Danny was _nowhere __**near**_ his power level.


End file.
